


You Could Be Her

by orphan_account



Series: Nobody Loves You Like Me [1]
Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: F/M, alwaysagirl!gavin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-31
Updated: 2013-03-31
Packaged: 2017-12-07 01:59:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,526
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/742843
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The one in which Gavin has always been a British female and Michael is, maybe, a little bit in love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Could Be Her

Michael has a problem.

Well, not a problem _per say_ , like, if he were to tell Ray about his perceived doom he'd be laughed at and maybe punched. Maybe. But Michael thinks that Ray might be a tad nicer than that after years of friendship and countless 'woe is me' stories. 

So the problem, that may or may not be a problem, is that Michael has a. . .Well, he wouldn't call it a 'thing' more of an. . .Infatuation? No, no. That's the wrong word. Fine. He has a 'thing', then. Thing sounds better than fetish, in any case. Not that he has a fetish! Because! He doesn't! It's a thing. Fuck you.

So, the thing. The thing is that he might, maybe, possibly have a thing for British accents.

Which has ever been a problem before, mind you. Living in New Jersey didn't exactly inspire all those from England to come on over, and Texas is pretty benign in terms of them English speaking folk. However, now? Now, not so much. Alright, he always knew that there was someone called 'Gavin' who was very British and also kind of dumb. He'd heard countless stories about him.

He'd just always assumed Gavin was a dude. Because, well, come on. Gavin's a dudebro name. He's pretty sure it means 'manly dove' in gaelic or something. Manly. 

But upon meeting Gavin he'd realised that, oh no, Gavin? Is a nick name. And Gavin's real name was something ridiculous like 'Gabrielle' and for some reason she'd been pegged with the name 'Gavin' in primary school and had stuck with it ever since. 

He'd also realised that she was very, very hot. Not hot in the 'Angelina Jolie' way. Hot in the kind of way that made Michael's cheeks grow warm when she laughed her obnoxious laugh or watch her while she talked to Ray or Geoff. It was really creepy and he'd never really done that with a girl before. His infatuation with Lindsay had been brief and lasted until he'd found out she had some ginger boyfriend who was possessive or whatever. He wasn't going to get in the way of true love. Especially when true love was funny as dicks.  
But Gavin? Well, Gavin was different. He's afraid for his health, here. He doesn't usually get nervous and stuttery. Usually he yells. Yelling is fine, yelling is good, great, fantastic.

The way he feels about Gavin is anything but.

He hates the girl.

He resolves to never talk to her again, and if he does it will be in short quips and he will force her to be bitchy around him, thus destroying any feelings he may or may not have for her.

Of course, that's when he and Gavin get sent to a convention together. The world hates him.

-

"Cripes, how cold do you need the damn aircon in this room?"

Michael glared half-heartedly at the girl currently situated on the middle of his bed. "You're from England. You're supposed to be used to the cold." He grabbed for the remote, anyway, and turned it off for the time being. He only put it on to make Gavin more comfortable, gentleman that he was.

"I grew up in Oxford, not _Antarctica_ ," she pointed out, rolling her eyes. "I didn't know it was minus twenty degrees in New Jersey, but I guess I'm learning more about you every day."

Michael cocked an eyebrow, placing the remote back to its stand on the wall. "What did you learn about me yesterday?"

"That you're weird about flying," she answered without missing a beat. "And that you dig fit blondes."

"I'm not weird about flying!" he argued, ignoring Gavin's smug smirk. "And I don't dig fit blondes."

"Yes you are and yes you do."

"The plane was experiencing turbulence! We could have died." He walked to the edge of the bed so he could glare down at Gavin. "And no."

"You were freaking out," she said, unfazed by him. "And you really do dig them. You were checking out that blonde chick with the huge rack. It was brilliant, you weren't even subtle."

"It was hardly 'freaking out," he said, complete with air quotation. "And I wasn't checking her out because she was _blonde_. I was checking her out because of her huge tits."

She grinned. "What? Are you proud that you just blatantly admitted to objectifying a woman?"

"I- no- you set me up!"

"I'd never."

"Get off my bed."

"Why?"

She looked up at him and Michael was reminded of a parrot. Or a parakeet. Whichever was stupider. "Because I want to sleep, asshole."

She looked confused for a split second and then grinned, big and bright. Michael's heart did stupid things. Maybe _he_ was the parakeet. Crap.

"You're going to love this," she said, eyes dancing.

"I highly doubt that."

"When Burnie booked us in," she started, articulating every word as if to emphasise the build up. "I kind of joked that um.."

"Um?"

"That we were together?" Gavin said, voice lilting, then quickly added, "Because, you know! We're constantly at each other's throats! So I thought it'd be a funny joke."

"Hilarious," he responded, dryly, trying to ignore the way his stomach was doing flips and shit from Gavin _talking about him_.

"And. Well, he must have thought I was being legit."

Michael blinked.

"So, as they say, mi casa es su casa. Or, you know, mi bed es su bed. Looks like we're sharing?"

"Fuck."

She smiled. "You can have the good side."

-

Sleeping in the same bed with Gavin wasn't how Michael had pictured it at all. He thought Gavin would be all octopus-y and sprawl everywhere, taking up every spare inch of the bed. But, he was proven wrong. Gavin curled up into a ball and spent the night facing away from Michael.

The next day at the convention he felt kind of lost now that he'd gathered this new information.

He wanted her to curl up with him, limbs tangled together, breath hot against his skin.

He left the con ten minutes before she did so he could jerk it quickly in the hotel bathroom before she came back. He thought of her naked skin and easy smile that she gave with no reservations. He thought of her jumbled words and messy hair, her long, knobbly fingers and big nose. He thought about kissing the sparse freckles that might appear on her chest and he thought about her nose nuzzling his abdomen, while her mouth-

He thought about fucking her, plain and simple and he came as he heard the door to the hotel room open and a voice that called, "Michael?"

-

"You're being weird," Gavin told him on their last night, while they slept in the same bed. Together.

"How am I being weird?" Michael asked, kind of bitterly.

Gavin rolled over, facing Michael. He inched back. "I see how you are with everyone else. You don't hold back. Why are you so weird around me?"

"I'm not being weird," he snapped. "You're just annoying."

"Did I do something?" she continued. "Did I offend you in some way? Were you actually angry about the time that I set your desk on fire? Because that was Geoff's idea."

"You set my desk on fire?!" Michael yelped, pulling the covers more to his side. "You dick!"

"It was your old desk," Gavin dismissed, tugging the covers back. "You don't even use it anymore. Don't change the subject."

Michael turned over, so that his back was facing Gavin. "Fine. Sorry if I'm weird around you."

"Is it because I have a vagina?" she asked. "Because that's a dick move. Just because I'm a chick doesn't mean we still can't be friends. Or work together. Christ."

"Jesus, I'm not a sexist asshole," Michael returned, offended. "I work with tonnes of chicks. I love chicks. My mother was a chick."

She laughed, just a tad. "Then what's the problem?"

He took a deep breath and winced. "It's embarrassing and you're going to laugh at me."

He turned back around to see her shrug. "Probably, yeah. But I still want to hear it."

"I kind of have a thing,"

"Okay?"

"For, like, British people."

She blinked.

"It's not like- I don't like you or anything!" he burst out. "I just like your voice. Not- not _your_ voice. Just, the voice. Of England.And it's weird."

Michael could see her grin in the dark. "So what? I give you boners when I talk all English?"

His face reddened.

"Oh my God, _I do_. Really?" Gavin was grinning, full blown now.

Michael said nothing.

"That's brilliant! Excellent. Top!" She moved closer to him. "So, what? You did't wanna get turned on while I made up words?"

"You're so annoying."

"This is the best superpower ever."

"This is why I didn't _tell_ you."

She kissed him, grabbing his face hard and grinning into his mouth. "You're such a goddamned knob."

There's grins, and laughter and promises that they'll be okay, and as sleep crowds in at the edge of Michael's vision he thinks, well, maybe it will be.

And that's okay.

**Author's Note:**

> This is part of a four part series I'm doing with fem!gavin/michael. fem!gavin/fem!michael, michael/gavin, gavin/fem!michael.  
> so, be on the lookout.


End file.
